


Plaid With Stripes Brave

by KristoffBjorgman



Category: Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 15:31:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KristoffBjorgman/pseuds/KristoffBjorgman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ken's world is turned upside down when Barbie breaks it off with him and sets off on a journey to find a new Dreamhouse. Crushed and downtrodden, he finds comfort in an unlikely source.<br/>Can Ken come to terms with this new sexual attraction and will Ryan be able to accept his romantic feelings or are the two doomed to fail before they even begin?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Everything Changes

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The sound of the door knocking echoed throughout the quiet house, carried up the stairs and into the bedroom where a figure laid sprawled amongst black sheets.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Ryan rolled over in his bed, letting out a loud groan as the sound was made for a third time.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Dragging himself up into a sitting position, Ryan rubbed his face and checked the alarm clock that sat next to him: 6:17am.  
 _Practically midnight_ , he thought to himself, exerting all his energy to drag his feet over the edge of the bed and plant them firmly on the red shag carpet lining the room. Pulling himself to his feet, Ryan grabbed the grey v-neck he had carelessly thrown onto the ground the night before and slipped it on, running his hands over his chest as he did so. Glancing at the blue-grey jeans jumbled in a pile at the foot of the bed, he looked down at the boxers he had slept in before shrugging and stumbling out of the room.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” he groaned to himself as he descended the staircase, shooting daggers at the door that had woken him at such an early hour. Ryan trod lightly as he approached the front door to his house, pressing one eye against the small indented peephole.

Well this was unexpected.

Unsure whether to answer the door or just walk away, Ryan’s options were cut down when from behind the panel of wood a voice began to speak

“I know you’re there, Ryan, I can smell your hair gel. Just open up would you?”

“Ha, the joke’s on you!” Ryan snapped back before he could restrain himself, “I’m not wearing any hair gel at the moment!”

“Ryan!” The door handle began jiggling, “Ryan, please just open up.”

The brunette rolled his eyes and threw in the towel, swinging open the door.

“Keeen, what a surprise. What do you want?”

Ken eyed Ryan up and down before pushing past him into the house. The disgruntled singer, still groggy from sleep, remembered he wasn’t wearing pants and was seriously considering rushing upstairs to change when he heard a defeated voice calling from the next room.

“Ryan I’m… sorry. I just don’t know where else to go, I can’t talk to Nikki or Teresa about this and I know that going to Raquelle will probably just end up with her hitting on me.”

Ryan poked his head around the doorframe, trying to hide his bare legs from Ken. He opened his mouth instinctively to defend his twin sister but no, Ken was probably right.  
Throwing caution to the wind, Ryan stepped into his living room and walked over to where Ken was huddled in a ball in the corner of his couch. About to spit out a witty remark, the brunette held his tongue when he saw tears welling in Ken’s eyes.

Genuinely curious to know what was wrong, Ryan leant over the arm of the couch opposite the crouching figure and stared at the upset man sitting in his house.

“So what’s up exactly?”

“No…” Ken managed to splutter out, “this was a mistake, I’m sorry. I should probably go, I mean what can you even do, why did I even come here?” Pulling himself up off the couch, Ken was forced back down as Ryan grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back in his seat.

“Seriously, what’s wrong? You can tell me, I won’t laugh or anything.”

“Barbie…” Ken took in a deep breath, wiping away the tears in his eyes, “Barbie broke up with me. I was watching the news… and then there she is announcing she’s moving… I went straight over there to see what was going on but before I could…”

Ryan’s ears perked up. _Barbie was single? And probably upset, too. The damsels in distress tend to flock to The Ryan._  A smile crept across his face.  _All I need now is to write her a wicked love ballad and she’ll be all mine!_

“Ugh, I knew you’d be like this, I don’t even know why I bothered coming here in the first place.” Ken’s voice cut through Ryan’s train of thought and he forced all memory of Barbie out of his mind as he struggled to keep Ken on the couch.

“Wait, stop. Stop struggling, jeez!”

“Whatever, Ryan. Don’t you dare stand there and tell me you’re not going to go chasing after her the minute I leave this house.” Ken glared daggers, the tears in his eyes only serving to magnify his disgust.

Ryan opened his mouth to speak and - no words came out. He half-considered lying to Ken, convincing him that he would leave Barbie alone and pouncing on her when the time was right. He could just flat out tell the truth and hope for the best. As he weighed the possibilities, Ryan’s eyes drifted to Ken’s completely distraught face and it suddenly hit him.

_This is real._

For years now, Ryan had played this game of cat and mouse with Ken and Barbie, taking perverse pleasure out of trying to break them up. For years he had fantasized about the day he would finally beat Ken once and for all and Barbie would fall into his arms.

_The game is over._

Ryan had never considered Ken’s part in his elaborate plans, his deepest fantasies. He had ignored the upset ex-boyfriend completely, focusing only on his main pursuit for so long. Too long.

_I shouldn’t go through with this._

The sight of Ken’s face, his deep blue eyes red and puffed from crying, his cheeks stained with the salt of dried tears, his chin wavering as he accepted his defeat, was too much for Ryan to bear.

_I can’t go through with this._

“I…” Ryan’s voice caught in his throat as he finally broke the silence, “I won’t go after Barbie. I promise. No more games.”

“What?” Ken’s brow furrowed, his eyes staring. “I believe you. I actually believe you.”

Relief flooded Ryan’s body and he couldn’t hold back a tiny smile from forming on his face. He had actually done something good for a change… and it felt amazing.  
“Thank you.” Ken straightened himself on the couch and lifted a hand up to rest on the arm Ryan had positioned over the back cushions. The other hand was lifted to his face, wiping away the remainder of his tears as they were replaced with new ones and Ken began to cry once more.

Ryan stood forlornly, no idea how to comfort this man he had once considered an enemy.

“It’s just… so hard, you know?” Ken began to sob gently, finally finding the courage to express himself truthfully, “I gave her all those years of my life and she just ends it like that, not even an explanation. You know what the worst thing is though? The worst… the worst thing is that I had to find out she was leaving from the television. The television!”  
“There there?” Ryan sat down beside his distraught neighbour, attempting a comforting pat on the back that only seemed to make things worse.

_Here is the man I’ve devoted my life to defeating, alone and grief-stricken in my presence. Why don’t I feel good about this?_

Ryan suddenly realised he actually felt bad for Ken. Ken, his nemesis. Ken, the man who had stolen his girl time and time again. Ken, the man who, for the first time, was being completely open and honest to him, despite the overwhelming possibility of taunting and rejection.

_What can I do?_

Ken was babbling incoherently, his eyes welled with tears.

Jumping to the first solution he could think of, Ryan reached out to the person he could now seriously consider a friend, placed his hands gently against the sides of Ken’s dampened cheeks and clumsily moved in for a kiss. Ken struggled to pull away but Ryan held him tight, desperate to take his mind off Barbie and trying to use his famous charm to do so.

Wrapping his arms around the sobbing man’s slight frame, Ryan pulled Ken into an embrace, breaking the kiss and allowing him the opportunity to react. The blonde looked up into Ryan’s face, his eyes damp and swimming with questions. The sight of Ken so helpless, so completely lost almost broke Ryan’s heart and his own brow furrowed as he began to regret how he had treated this man in the past. For a moment there was nothing but silence between the two of them, each staring at each other, neither of them knowing how to react.

“Wh… what was that for?” Ken snapped back into the present, pushing at Ryan’s chest with his hands, fighting to escape the embrace.

“You were crying! I didn’t know what else to do, I…” Ryan was genuinely at a loss for words, a thousand sentences swimming in his head, individual words crashing into each other, then being ripped away before they could form coherent phrases.

“I didn’t know you were gay.” There was no judgement in Ken’s voice, no hatred, no pity.

“I’m not!” Ryan spat back defensively, his mouth forming the words before his brain could process them. “I mean… come on; I’m a musician living in California. A hole’s a hole.”

“Ew,” Ken couldn’t contain a slight giggle as he contorted his face into one of feigned disgust.

“I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Oh whatever…” a familiar twinkle returned to Ken’s eyes. “Slut.”

Ryan snorted abruptly, the sound of Ken’s voice forming such a word a new experience for him.

“So what about you, Kenny boy? I didn’t see you complaining all that much.”

“You took me by surprise! I thought you were gonna slap me or something.” Ken pulled Ryan in closer, pressing his lips against the ear framed with brunette hair. ”It was kinda nice though.”

“Everybody wants a piece of The Ryan!”

Rolling his eyes, Ken pushed Ryan sideways, forcing him into a laying position on the couch. Sliding in behind him, Ken wrapped one arm around Ryan’s waist and slid the other up his grey shirt, resting his hand against the warm, slightly fuzzy chest of his new friend.

“So, what do you wanna do next then?” Ryan strained his head, trying to catch a glimpse of the blonde man laying behind him.

“Honestly? All I want to do right now is sleep.”

“Preaching to the choir.” Ryan breathed a sigh of relief. “No more early morning visits now though, you hear? Today was a one-time only thing. I need my beauty sleep!”

Ken didn’t respond, instead pulling Ryan in tighter.

He took everything in, the soft hair running up his partner’s calves and thighs rubbing against his own legs, Ryan’s muscular chest underneath his resting hand. The scent of his hair, of his body. The sound of his breathing, getting ever so slower as he drifted off into sleep.

This was unlike anything Ken had ever experienced before. With Barbie it was safe, tame. Pecks on the cheek now and then, the occasional hug but nothing like this. Ryan was raw, powerful. The kiss had ignited something in Ken, something he had never felt with Barbie. Something he desperately wanted to investigate further.

The power of sleep began to take over and Ken smiled softly as he drifted off, wrapped around the warm body of Ryan.

_I could definitely get used to this._


	2. Morning Wood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Ryan snoozes the morning away, Ken fights a losing battle with his hormones as he begins to have unusual fantasies.
> 
> -NSFW-

* * *

_Barbie opens the front door, expecting another camera crew ready to chronicle her newest endeavour. She’s in the middle of getting ready for the next interview, her makeup freshly applied and a comb in her hand, brushing her hair back into golden ringlets._

_“You can get set up over there,” she sings, excited about all this newfound interest in her life from apparent strangers. Frowning when she doesn’t get a response, she glances at the figure in the doorframe and drops the hairbrush in her hand._ _Ken slips past her, walks to the centre of the foyer and spins around to face Barbie._

_“You’re moving? Since when?!”_

_“Oh Ken…” Barbie pauses, unable to know what to say to her partner. Truthfully, she had become so caught up in everything that she had completely forgotten to tell him what has happening._

_“Well? Barbie? Are you even listening?”_

_“Ken, I’ve lived here in Malibu for my entire life. Now that we’ve finished college, it’s time for a new adventure! Think of the places we could visit!”_

_“You honestly expect me to just up and leave with you?”_

_“Well, you know, I was hoping…”_

_“Barbie, Malibu is my home. Our home!” Ken steps closer to her, placing his hands gently on the blonde woman’s shoulders. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”_

_“Oh. Well in that case,” Barbie lifts her head back, mouth opening into a grin, “I suppose we’re through!”_

_She begins to laugh, starting off as a small chuckle that builds its way into an otherworldly cackle. Gripping Ken’s shoulders in return, Barbie’s fingers dig into his skin as she tightens her grip._ _Pulling him roughly towards her, Barbie leans in close until their faces are all but pressed together._

_“We’re through!”_

Ken’s eyes flew open as his nightmare ended, thankful to escape the torment of his breakup. Sleep still in his eyes; he moved his head around, trying to find some indication of the time. As his vision became clearer, he noticed a bushel of dark brown hair obstructing most of his view. Confused, Ken arched his neck to see what it was and his memory of the morning shot back into his head.

_I came to Ryan looking for help and… we slept together? No, we kissed. Oh boy did we kiss. But then we slept together. No sex. On his couch?_

Pulling Ryan closer to him, Ken strained his head to catch a glimpse of the television and attached devices resting on a sleek, black stand directly opposite him. Squinting at the green LCD panel in the DVD player, he managed to make out the time.

10:32.

Ryan was still asleep, bless him, snoring ever so faintly in a way that Ken found strangely attractive.

His right hand was still wrapped under the resting body of Ryan and down the collar of his v-neck, pressed against his chest. His left hand had drifted while he was sleeping however, no longer positioned around his sleeping partner’s waist but further down, much further down.

Frowning, Ken could feel something pressed against his palm. Giving it an experimental squeeze, he patted the area, wondering what he had been holding in his sleep.  
A bolt of energy raced down Ken’s spine as he realised he had just been groping Ryan’s morning wood. Pulling his hand away instinctively, he froze as the man in his arms murmured in his sleep.

Ryan shifted his body, curling his legs into a loose foetal position. His back now arched, his ass pressed against Ken who had only just noticed his own growing erection.  
Embarrassed, Ken pulled away, twisting his own body upwards. He lifted his right hand up and out of Ryan’s shirt, giving his chest one final, fleeting stroke before sliding his arm out from under the sleeping musician.

Ken shifted backwards, inching away from Ryan. Pulling himself into a sitting position at the end of the couch, he quickly stretched and stood up.  
Ryan moved in his sleep yet again, curling into a ball.

Ken took one step away but stopped as he caught a glimpse of Ryan’s ass, pressed tight in deep plum coloured boxer briefs. Pale thighs gave way to warm, toned calves; dark brown hairs running from his waist right down to his ankles, narrowing off into wedges halfway down his feet.

 _But that ass_.

Ken’s eyes were transfixed on the splash of purple set just below the grey shirt, the contours of Ryan’s backside sculpted perfectly in the tight cotton of his boxers.  
He wanted to reach out – to touch it, just to see what it felt like.

He’d never felt such desires when he was with Barbie, their relationship stable but stagnant. They had, of course, slept together in the years they had been together and though it had been expressed with love there was little power or real emotion driving either of them. The act seemed more a chore than anything, something Ken felt he was obliged to do to validate his role as a boyfriend.

Hovering over the back of the couch, staring at the sleeping figure curled up on the cushions, Ken realised that this was the first time he had ever actually expressed any interest in another person sexually.

_What is going on with me?_

He shook his head in a desperate attempt to get Ryan out of his mind, turning away from the couch and stumbling out of the living room.

_Bathroom. I need the bathroom._

Ken had only been in Ryan’s house a couple of times; the longest he had stayed was when Ryan had just moved in and needed to be shown the ropes.

 _We actually got along quite well at the beginning…_ Ken thought back to their first encounter, nearly six years ago.

His mind drifting away in the past, Ken stumbled his way through Ryan’s house pushing at every door he could find, trying to reach a bathroom.

As he passed the kitchen he noticed the large fridge and decided that as soon as he relieved himself he would make breakfast for the two of them. It was the very least he could do, considering how mature Ryan had been at the idea of a newly-single Barbie.

Ken reached the back corner of the house, a small, tiled laundry room with a door leading off it. Poking his head around the corner, he saw a toilet and sink.  
 _Finally!_

Shutting and locking the door, Ken unbuttoned his pants, the tan shorts falling down his calves and collected in a heap at his ankles. Reaching to drop his boxers, he remembered with a groan that his morning wood was still going on strong. He ignored it, hoping that it would go away if he kept his mind elsewhere.

He grabbed the lid of the toilet bowl, closing it so he had a place to sit while his erection went away. He began to think of his house, his job, anything, as he sat down on the top of the toilet. It was beginning to work when his mind absently wandered to the image of a sleeping Ryan, his ass on display to Ken and Ken alone.

Ken groaned as he felt the blood pumping back into his penis.

There was really only one solution.

He closed his eyes, picturing Ryan’s backside pressed tight in those briefs. Reaching into his own boxers, Ken grasped his erection, with every heartbeat growing stronger as he continued to visualise purple cotton shaped by Ryan’s ass.

_Ryan stands up and stretches, arching his body as he runs his hands down his lower back, down, down, down… Grasping the bottom of his shirt, he pulls it upwards and over his head, a lean waist giving way to broad shoulders, flashes of dark brown hair hiding under his arms revealed as he lifts them high to pull the garment off completely._

Ken began stroking himself, his hand still buried deep in his boxer shorts, imagining the muscles of Ryan’s back. Grabbing his own shirt with the other hand, he clumsily pulled it off and began groping at his torso.

_Turning his head coyly, Ryan flashes a smile as his arms drop down and come to rest firmly on his backside. He gently squeezes with both hands, moaning underneath that grin. He hooks the bottom of his pants with a finger, lifting the material up, up, up…_

_He’s on a bed, lying face down with his ass arched up in the air. Ken grabs his ankles; slowly running his hands up Ryan’s toned calves, up past his knees and up the insides of his thighs until they come to rest at the base of his briefs. He caresses Ryan’s ass, reaching upwards, taking hold of the band of white running around the lying man’s waist and pulling down, down._

Pulling his hand out, Ken groped at the pouch at the front of his own underwear, reaching in and lifting his erection out of its cotton cage. Running a thumb over the hardened head, already leaking with precum, he grasped it at the base and began to pump faster.

_Ryan’s backside is revealed as Ken pulls the pants right down to rest halfway down his thighs. The hair on his legs continues right up to the bottom of his pelvis, a soft coating of dark fuzz covering the bottom of his ass and around to meet up with the untamed bush of hair around the front. Placing his hands firmly on the cheeks, Ken moves them upwards, running past Ryan’s lower back and around the sides of his body before coming to a rest sandwiched between his groomed chest and the bedsheets. Ken inches his head closer, taking in everything before burying his face deep into that ass…_

_Ken is on his back, a panting Ryan hovering over him. His legs wrapped around the man on top of him, Ken’s hands are gripping Ryan’s backside, pushing his pelvis in and out of Ken’s own ass. Ryan is sweating as he pumps away, Ken’s own brow coated in perspiration as he forces his lover in and out. Ryan lets out a groan as he comes and collapses, his chest pressed tight against Ken’s, his face touching the man lying underneath him, still furiously pumping at his ass until Ryan grabs the sides of Ken’s head and they meet lips. The kiss sends Ken over the edge and he pushes Ryan’s ass right up, trying to get as much of the man in him as possible as he climaxes, his legs tightening around Ryan’s back, determined to never let go, his toes curled tight as the feeling of Ryan buried deep inside of him sends waves of pleasure down his spine._

Ken’s eyes shot open as he came, directing his erection upwards as globs of ejaculate shoot into the air to come flying back down onto his bare legs. The orgasm slows down to a trickle, the last shot dribbling down the shaft until it comes to a stop at his hand, still grasped firmly around his now-softening penis.

 _Ryan breaks the kiss, lifting his head back and pushing his mop of brown hair out of the way. A half-smile forms on his face and he pulls out of Ken and forces his arms down under the blonde’s back to pull him in for a hug. The couple lay there, Ryan’s arms wrapped around Ken whose own legs in turn are still pressed tightly around Ryan’s lower back.  
_ _“Your turn next,” Ryan pants. He drops his head again, going in for another kiss._

Ken lifts his hand up, the last shot of semen clinging to his index finger. He pulls it up to his face, for the first time curious to know what it tastes like. Bringing the finger to his nose, Ken sniffs it apprehensively and quickly changes his mind.

_Maybe some other time._

Examining the mess all over himself, Ken tore off a ball of toilet paper and began cleaning himself up.

 

* * *

 Ken touched Ryan’s shoulder, gently shaking him in an effort to wake him up.

“Ryan, Ryan!” he blushed as the sleeping man’s eyes finally opened, embarrassed as he remembered the fantasy he had mere moments ago.

“Wha? Ken?” Ryan rubbed his eyes and yawned.

“Wake up sleepyhead, I’m making eggs.”

Ryan’s vision finally came into focus and he quickly looked away when his view of Ken became clearer.

Glancing down, Ken realised he had forgotten to put his shirt and pants back on.

“Come on!” he shrugged his shoulders, comfortable enough to let Ryan see him like this, “let’s make some breakfast.”


	3. Scrambled Eggs, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Ken comes to grips with his recent breakup, Ryan offers as much support as he is able - and then some.

* * *

“Ryan… Ryan!”

Ryan rubbed his eyes wearily as Ken’s voice brought him out of sleep.

“Wha? Ken?” he managed to mumble, the question eventually turning into a long yawn.

“Wake up sleepyhead, I’m making eggs.”

Ryan’s eyes, still blurred with sleep, drifted down Ken’s body and he realised with a start that the man standing over him was only in his boxers. He looked away, embarrassed, only to come face to face with his own bare legs.

_Oh, right._

“And good morning to you, too,” Ken chuckled, trying to hide it behind two hands.

Ryan looked further down his body and his face turned red with embarrassment as he noticed the prominent, purple bulge in his boxers.

The blonde strode off into the kitchen, giving Ryan the opportunity to properly wake up. He shifted up off the couch, arms dragging against the black couch in protest. His v-neck was beginning to smell, the result of having not washed it in days mixed with the sweaty side effects of sleeping on leather. Ryan grabbed the base of the shirt and peeled it off, glad to be rid of it. He threw it back on the couch and caught a glimpse of his naked chest.

_I can’t go in there like this… not after what just happened._

Searching the room with tired eyes, Ryan spotted a crumpled up pile of green plaid lying by the television. He stepped towards it, shaking out some of the wrinkles as he pulled the new shirt over his shoulders.

_That’ll do, I guess._

“Hurry up!” Ken’s voice drifted in from the kitchen, “I have no idea where anything is in here!”

Ryan’s thoughts drifted back to the morning and he smiled, happy that Ken was acting considerably cheerier than he had when he knocked on the door only hours before.

“I was gonna cook some bacon or something, but all you have in your fridge is two dozen eggs and a jar of mustard.”

“Uh, yeah. I don’t really eat at home a lot…” Ryan stepped into the kitchen, pulling the front of his shirt together over his chest. Ken’s head was buried in the refrigerator, back arched as he bent over examining the contents.

Ryan stared at Ken’s ass for a moment before looking away sheepishly, pulling the shirt down over his crotch.

“Nothing in the salad drawer except… Oh, God!” Ken pulled out a blackened ball, unopened in its bag. “What the hell is this?”

“A lettuce? I think?” Ryan smiled awkwardly.

“Ugh.” Ken grabbed a carton of eggs with his other hand and dropped the bag in the bin as he made his way to the oven.

“You really don’t have to do this you know, I can probably just order something-“

  
“Scrambled, poached, boiled or fried?” Ken interrupted him, twirling around on the spot to face Ryan.

“Uh, scrambled, I guess.”

Ken nodded and turned back to the stove top, a small smile forming on his face.

“There’s a mixing bowl in the counter cupboard to your left, and there should be a whisk hanging up above the fruit bowl.” Ryan pointed to the corner of the kitchen, where a pot rack was set up with cooking utensils in place of saucepans.

“Thanks,” Ken spoke breathlessly, pulling open the doors of the counter next to him, hunting for a mixing bowl.

“Do you want some coffee, or tea or something?” Ryan stood in the middle of the kitchen, feeling useless.

“Tea would be great! Chai, if you have it?”

“I… think I have some, hang on a sec.” Ryan made his way over to a cupboard, slightly impressed with Ken’s new take-charge attitude. A dozen boxes of pods lay hidden at the back for the coffee machine he still wasn’t entirely sure how to use. Raquelle had ranted and raved about how wonderful hers was months earlier and Ryan had bought one of his own just to shut her up, but had never felt the need to use it until now.

“Chai tea, chai tea…” he mumbled to himself, sorting through the colourful boxes until he found what he was looking for. He grabbed the correct package gleefully, happy to be of some use in his own kitchen.

Four rows of mugs sat neatly on the shelf below, the majority of them never used before.

“Red cup or white cup?” Ryan asked, grabbing one of each colour in his other hand to show to Ken.

“Um, white, I think. Yeah, white.”

“Okay, how to use this thing?” Ryan put the mugs down on the kitchen counter next to the coffee machine and pulled open the drawer beneath it, fishing around a pile of small white booklets and warranties, looking for the machine’s instruction manual.

After a moment of searching he eventually found it and with a grin pulled it out, shutting the drawer behind him.

_Oh boy, this thing looks complicated…_

Ryan pulled himself up onto the counter beside the mugs, opened the manual and began to read.

“Are you serious?” Ken rolled his eyes as he poured the egg mixture from the bowl to the frying pan he had set up; poking at it with the spatula he found hanging next to the whisk. “Look, all you have to do is put the pod in and press the button. Not really rocket science, genius.”

“Uh…” Ryan looked up from the manual, unconvinced.

“Fine,” Ken strode over to where Ryan was sat, picking up the box of capsules on his way. “See? You just lift this top thing,” he grabbed a handle on the top of the machine and lifted it upwards, “slide this thing out,” he pulled at another handle, now exposed, “put the pod in and voila.”

“Thanks…” Ryan frowned. “You know I’m useless at this sort of stuff, right?”

“Hey, don’t mention it. I’ve seen worse.”

“I really doubt that.”

“No, it’s true! This one time, Barbie needed-” Ken’s voice cut off abruptly.

“Again, thank you.”

“That’s fine.” Ken’s head was bowed to the ground, avoiding eye contact with Ryan as he took a step back to the stovetop.

Ryan sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Sorry about that.” Ken stopped walking as he crossed Ryan’s path. “I’ve been trying not to think about it all that much and I thought it was working until I actually said her name and…” His eyes made contact with Ryan’s, and for the second time that day Ryan’s heart melted as he noticed how affected Ken was by the break up.

“Listen to me, you’ve got to stop beating yourself up about this.” Ryan leaned in forward, the opening at the front of his shirt widening, “I know you were together for ages and I know what I’m about to say is a massive cliché, but there are plenty more fish in the sea, you know?”

“We’ve been together since the first grade.” Ken muttered, looking away. “Not together together, but friends. She started dating someone when we started middle school and it just made me so jealous. They broke up like a week later, but I asked her out as soon as I could and we’ve been dating ever since.”

Ryan did some quick math in his head before gaping in surprise. “You’ve been together for 12 years?”

“I stayed here in California for her, did you know that? We graduated High School and started looking around for colleges. I wanted to go to-” Ken paused, blushing, “never mind. Anyway, she insisted we stay together here in Malibu and I actually went along with it because I thought we’d be together forever. I thought we were soul mates!”

 _Oh, boy._  Ryan couldn’t think of anything to say, completely clueless as to how to deal with this kind of situation.

Ken turned around, about to walk away.

“Wait.” Ryan had no idea what to say next, but he managed to string together a coherent sentence in his head. “You’re a good guy, okay? A great guy in fact. You’ll find someone else.”

Ken sighed and turned back to look at Ryan.

“Thanks.” His eyes, beginning to well with tears yet again met Ryan’s.

“I’m serious okay?” Ryan reached out and grabbed one of Ken’s hands, holding it in both of his own as he pulled the man closer to him.

“I know.” Ken pulled away, his hand landing on the top of Ryan’s thigh.

Ryan stared into Ken’s deep blue eyes for what felt like an eternity before the man suddenly lent in and pressed his lips against Ryan’s own.

_Whoa, what?_

Ryan sat there numbly, unsure as to how to react before his brain kicked in. He reached a hand up to Ken’s neck and he felt Ken do the same. Running the hand through the back of Ken’s hair, Ryan pulled him in closer, parting his lips as the kiss very quickly turned French.

Ken was pressed against the counter; Ryan’s knees parted either side of his torso as the two made out silently. Ryan’s hands travelled down Ken’s back as Ken wrapped both of his own arms around Ryan’s neck, pressing their bare chests together.

Wordlessly, Ryan squeezed his legs closer together until his thighs were pressed tight against Ken’s lower body, before lifting his feet and wrapping his calves around Ken’s backside.

Ken pushed forward, forcing Ryan to lean back until he was at an angle, pressed against the cold tiles lining the wall behind him. He felt Ken’s arms unwrap themselves from around his shoulders, one hand shifting upwards, running through his hair, while the other moved down Ryan’s arm, until it came into contact with his boxers.

_What… hold on, what is he…?_

Ryan felt the hand sliding up his thigh, running up past the soft dark brown hairs before slipping in under the fabric of his briefs and travelling sidewards…

Ken’s eyes shot open and he pulled his head away from the kiss.  
“Shit, the eggs!”

Ryan choked back a laugh as Ken untangled himself and raced back to the frying pan, a smokey, blackened mess greeting him when he returned.

Ken sighed softly and turned to look at Ryan, his face contorted into an exaggerated frown as he started to chuckle, forlornly looking down at the burnt mess in his hand.  
“I’ll make a fresh batch,” he chortled.


	4. Scrambled Eggs, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan makes a decision that could jeopardise the pair's friendship as Ken struggles with his newfound sexuality.

* * *

_Oh my God._

Ken scraped the burnt eggs into the trash, running the spatula up and down the frypan in a useless effort to loosen the blackened mess from the metal.

_Did that seriously just happen?_

He gave up, dropping the pan into the sink as he made his way back to the cupboard to get a new one, avoiding meeting Ryan’s gaze.

Ryan had his back turned to the kitchen, fiddling with the coffee maker. Beneath the wrinkled green plain shirt he had loosely thrown over his broad shoulders, a splash of purple peeked out before giving way to pale thighs. Ken tried his best to avoid staring at Ryan’s boxer briefs for too long, the shock of what he had done still freshly implanted in his mind.

The two shared little conversation as they each assembled their breakfast, the longest interaction coming from Ryan pointing out a half loaf of bread that Ken managed to toast and butter to accompany the eggs he had carefully supervised this time around. 

Ryan was getting the hang of the coffee machine, exchanging the pods when needed and refilling the water tank before making the second cup of tea. Ken caught himself staring at the half-smile that formed on Ryan’s face when he successfully completed the drinks, and without knowing it found himself smiling along.

He imagined this routine playing out day after day - the two waking up together, Ken preparing the breakfast, toast and cereal on weekdays, eggs or perhaps bacon on the weekends when they can waste the mornings away in each others company, Ryan grinning as he masters the coffee pod machine, investing in different flavours to ensure variety for each day. A cat or two lazily stretched in the doorway where the sun beams shine through the eastern windows, maybe a dog eating its own breakfast from the bowl set up next to the fridge, an old newspaper unfolded underneath to catch any spills. Two kids racing into the kitchen, hugging their fathers before the family sit down and share breakfast together.

 _Whoa._  Ken snapped back into the present.  _Where did_ that _come from?_

Realising he was still staring at Ryan, Ken turned back to the frypan, his cheeks flushed with pink.

“Uh, the eggs are ready.” He dished up the breakfast and took the plates over to the table, tucked away in the corner of the room.

Ryan came over with the cups and Ken could tell something was troubling him. Remembering the two completely different but equally exciting fantasies he’d had in the past hour, Ken found himself unable to meet Ryan’s gaze out of sheer embarrassment.

The two sat silently, opposite each other at the small kitchen table. Ken sat the plates down gently, still too embarrassed to look Ryan in the eyes, and he could tell Ryan felt the same way. 

“So,” Ryan was the first one to break the silence, draining his cup before swallowing deeply and beginning to speak. Ken noticed his hand trembling slightly as he placed the mug back down on the table. “What was… I mean, how did we… what?”

“I, I’m not sure,” Ken tried to calm his nerves, convincing himself that it was silly to be this worked up over a kiss. Well, two kisses.

“I know I said you’d find someone else and look, I know you’re still trying to deal with this whole Barbie thing but I don’t think-“

“I’m sorry.” Ken cut him off, afraid of where the sentence was headed. “It’s just… you’ve been treating me so well these last couple of hours, it’s not at all what I was expecting. I don’t really have that many guy friends, you know? And then you… kissed me,” he blushed, looking away, “and I dunno, I’ve never really done something like that before. With another guy, I mean. Hell, with anyone other than Barbie for that matter. It was strange, and different, and exciting… I guess it helped the first time and I was getting upset all over again and you were being so nice to me and I don’t know what came over me.”

“Listen, Ken. You’ve got some major things to deal with here, I mean you two were together since grade school for Christ’s sake, and I dunno if me being a part of it is going to help you or set things back. Yeah, what we’ve been doing this morning has been fun and all,” he lifted his eyes, looking directly at Ken, “and I mean really, wow, just then was fucking incredible, but I don’t think it would be a good idea to keep doing it.”

Ken’s heart dropped in his chest. 

_Idiot!_

The rest of the meal was silent, neither man comfortable enough to start or carry a conversation with the other. Ken was fuming, trying to hide his disappointment with a thinly veiled lack of interest in anything.

_You had to ruin it! The first time Ryan actually opens up to you and you shove your tongue down his throat. Stupid Ken, stupid!_

“I guess we can probably address one thing.” Ryan was at the sink, rinsing the plates and stacking them into the dishwasher.

“Yeah?” Ken was across the room, wiping down the table with a damp cloth. He still couldn’t bare to look Ryan in the face, but he managed to spit out a reply clumsily while focusing squarely on the salt shaker that sat in the table in front of him.

“Well, like I said, I liked…” he paused, trying to word the sentence without embarrassment, ”…the kiss, and I’m pretty sure you did too, so…”

Ken could see where Ryan was going. It was a question he had asked himself since he had fallen asleep on the couch only hours ago. It was certainly something he had never thought about while he was with Barbie; he never found the occasion to actually consider the possibility. But since Ryan kissed him that morning, whether it was just to shut him up or something more, Ken had begun to reconsider his entire life, leading up to the inevitable, inescapable question.

_Am I gay?_

* * *

The first time he asked himself, mere moments after Ryan broke the embrace on the couch, he initially came to the conclusion that he might be but had no way of knowing for certain. He was upset… hysterical even, Ryan panicked and tried to remedy the situation in the best way he knew how. 

He was taken aback, surprised, not ready for the kiss. Struggling at first, he felt a heat, a passion, something there that he’d never felt with Barbie. Something changed within him but he managed to fight it back, managed to convince himself that the heat came from the situation, not the man whose lips he had interlocked with.

_A kiss is a kiss._

Feeling the warmth of Ryan’s body pressed against his own, however, forced a surge of completely new emotions into Ken as he lay down to sleep that morning. His left hand wrapped around Ryan’s waist, he could feel the soft fuzz of the line of hair trailing up the other man’s navel, travelling upwards past his stomach to come to a stop at the top of his chest, where Ken’s other hand was resting.

The temptation to wrap himself completely around Ryan, to press himself tight against the broad shoulders, the defined chest, to intertwine his legs with Ryan’s own toned calves and muscular thighs, was almost too difficult for Ken to bear. He smelled the unmistakable scent of deodorant, mingling with the sweat and natural odor of another man. Closing his eyes, Ken could feel Ryan’s chest moving gently as he slept.  His face was pressed against the back of Ryan’s head and he could feel the other man’s hair resting gently against his cheek.

It was an experience he had never encountered before, something totally unexpected and alien to him. Comparing it to similar scenarios that had taken place between himself and Barbie over the years, there was no mistaking which one he preferred. His body entwined with another man’s, Ken had asked himself the question again.

_Am I gay?_

His mind raced to find an explanation, a reason that out of Ryan and Barbie, he preferred lying next to the man who had tormented him for the past 4 years. It settled on the unexpectedness of it all, explaining his preference as something new and exciting, something he had never done before. Drifting off to sleep, the last thought to drift through his mind was the affirmation that he still loved women, still loved Barbie, but holding Ryan tightly in his arms was also pretty great.

Two hours later, panting from exhaustion as he slid off the top of the toilet seat, Ken had faced the question once again. The realisation of what he’d done hit him and his mind was in turmoil as he made his way back to the living room to wake the sleeping man who had just played a rather prominent role in what he could only describe as the most intense sexual fantasy he’d ever had. Watching Ryan sleeping seemed to calm him however, the sight of him completely at peace calmed Ken down and he felt as though he was finally able to understand what was going on inside his head.

_Am I gay?_

The second kiss, the one Ken had initiated, threw him completely out of sync with the world. With Ryan’s legs wrapped around him, Ken felt a whole new rush of emotions and pushed forwards, pressing their bodies together. Acting on impulse, he tried to nudge the experience along, running his palm down Ryan’s side to rest at the base of his boxers. Heart pounding in his chest, Ken made the decision to go for it and slipped his hand up underneath the material.

He pictured the two of them, well into their thirties, celebrating their anniversary in the same kitchen. Both dressed up, Ken insisted on it, a fancy red cloth and candles spread out over the small table to set the mood. They hurry their way through the dinner they had prepared together, both silently agreeing to skip dessert and head straight for the bedroom. Ryan dumps the plates unceremoniously into the sink at the end of the meal, turning back to the table only to come face to face with Ken, unable to contain himself any longer. Pushing his husband back up against the counter, Ken gropes at the tie around Ryan’s neck, pulling it off and discarding it in a heap on the floor next to them. He grabs the white collar and pulls the shirt apart, ignoring the buttons that rip off as Ryan’s bare chest is revealed. Ken wraps his arms around the other man’s torso, determined to never let go.  
“I love you,” he whispers into the ear hidden underneath a mop of brown hair before pressing his lips tightly against Ryan’s.

_What… What is happening right now?_

The confidence drained out of Ken completely as he edged his hand slowly up the purple boxers and towards the bulge he could feel against his chest. Panicking, he took in a deep breath and that’s when he smelled the smoke.

He pulled himself away, unable to continue what he had started. He stumbled back to the frypan, his head once again reeling with questions. He thought he’d figured it all out, decided that what he’d been going through since the break up that morning was just shock from the most part, nothing more than a senseless rebound encounter after the love of his life left him.  
Now he wasn’t so sure.

_Am I gay?_

 He asked himself one final time at the end of breakfast, and reached the same conclusion that he had when Ryan first kissed him on the couch only hours before.

_I have absolutely no idea._

* * *

“Ken? Ken?” Ryan waved a hand in front of his face, trying to get his attention.

“Uh, yeah, what were you saying?” Ken drifted back into the present, unsure of how long he had been out of it.

“I was saying… we both seemed to be into the whole kiss thing, right? And I mean, I know I’ve already figured myself out but I dunno about you and it seems like a really bad idea to keep doing this until you have a better idea of who you are outside of your relationship with Barbie, you know?”

Ken lifted his eyes and met Ryan’s gaze. He could see how much difficulty the other man was having saying this, and reluctantly found himself agreeing.

“I… I guess so.”

“Well then!” Ryan perked up almost immediately, “I’m not sure what you want to do now. You can stay here if you want, or I guess you can go home. I’ll always be here if you wanna talk though.”

Ken pictured his own house, dark and cold, reminders of Barbie scattered across every room. He really didn’t want to go back there.

“Is it okay if I just hang out here for a while? Being by myself at home seems a little depressing at the moment.”

“Sure thing, Kenny boy. I’m gonna quickly take a shower, but I’ll be back downstairs soon. There’s a second bathroom down the hall if you wanna shower as well, but I’d probably suggest you put your clothes back on afterwards.”

“Oh, right.” Ken remembered with a start that his shirt and pants were still next to the toilet where he’d left them earlier that morning.

“We really don’t know each other that well at all, do we?” Ryan paused on his way out of the kitchen, turning back to look at the figure still standing by the table, “When I get back we’re gonna talk, alright? Like, properly talk. As friends.” He flashed that half-smile that sent Ken’s heart racing and strode out of the kitchen.

 _Friends._  Before that morning, Ken hadn’t expected that word ever being used to describe him and Ryan. But now…

_I’ll work this out, you’ll see. I’ll show you who I am and then we can figure out where to go from here, together._

Ken smiled, turned away from the table and made his way back to the bathroom, eager to start a new life outside of Barbie.


	5. The Sister Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unannounced visit by Raquelle results in the diva finding herself entangled in her brother's new relationship, but how will she react when she finds out who he's interested in?

* * *

“Ryan! RYAN!” She banged at the door, hard, letting her anger out on the red painted wood, “Ryan! Would. You. Answer. The. Damn. Door?”

Grunting in frustration, she gave it one last whack before giving up, leaning against the timber to catch her breath.

“What the hell is going on out here?” The door was ripped open, she fell forwards onto the man still holding the handle in his hand.

“Ugh, finally!” she groaned, regaining her balance slowly, “You know, you really need to invest in a doorbell or something.”

“Raquelle? What do you want?”

“Oh, right!” She straightened herself up and grinned at her twin brother, “Did you hear the news? Barbie’s single! She gave Ken the boot earlier today, can you believe it?”

Ryan sighed. He’d known it was only a matter of time before Raquelle caught wind of the breakup, although he had seriously assumed it would take longer for the news to reach her.

“Yeah, I found out this morning.”

“Oh.” She frowned, hoping her brother would be a little more excited about the news than she was. “Still though, Barbie is single!”

“I know, Raquelle. I kinda promised Ken I wouldn’t go after her thought and to be honest I don’t really want to anyway.”

She stared at Ryan for a moment before something clicked in her head and she began to speak again. “Oh right,  _you_  and Barbie. Never mind. Wait, you promised Ken what?”

“I, uh… do you wanna come inside? There’s a lot of stuff I need to talk to you about.”

“I  _guess_  I could stay if I  _have_  to.” Raquelle masked her genuine enthusiasm with a thick later of sarcasm, a trait she had possessed from a very early age.

Rolling his eyes at his sister, Ryan stepped to the side of the doorframe, allowing her to enter his house.

Although she’d never admit it to his face, Raquelle enjoyed spending time in her brother’s company. The two shared almost everything with each other and kept very little secrets, and it was nice having someone like Ryan who knew her so well. She often felt lonely and it was comforting to know her family was so close nearby.

The decision to move to California was all Ryan’s; he felt as though it was the best move he could make to further his career as a musician. Well, that’s what he told their parents, however Raquelle had her own suspicions on why he wanted to leave. Raquelle herself was quite happy living in Boston, where the two had grown up their entire lives, but when her brother announced his plans to leave the city and move to Malibu she felt obligated to go with him, for her own sake as much as his. 

“So what’s going on, bro? I thought you’d have headed straight towards the Dreamhouse the minute you found out your precious Barbie was single.” Raquelle strode into the living room and planted herself firmly onto the black leather sofa that sat in the center of the room, her brother following behind her. “How did you find out so quickly, by the way? The only person who seemed to know what was going on was Teresa, and I literally had to bribe it out of her.”

“Uh, Ken came around this morning and told me.” He was acting strange, avoiding meeting her eyes and shifting around in his seat. Raquelle could tell something was up, but she didn’t want to pursue it if he was this uncomfortable about it. Instead, she focused the conversation on something she knew would take his mind off of whatever was troubling him.

“Wait, Ken was here?”

“Yeah, technically he still is. He’s upstairs at the moment, taking a shower.”

Raquelle had no idea how to respond to this situation so resorted to staring at Ryan until he explained what was going on.

“Look, I need to tell you something, okay? You have to promise to keep it a secret as well, I don’t wanna hear about this from anyone. Promise?”

“Okay, okay, I promise.” Raquelle rolled her eyes, her brother was almost as melodramatic as she could be sometimes.

“I dunno how to do this, so I guess I’ll start at the beginning, right? Okay, so like I said, Ken came by this morning and told me they’d broken up and he was a mess. Like, a complete wreck. I was going to try to get rid of him and head straight to Barbie’s but… I dunno. Seeing him that upset sort of put things into perspective. It made the whole thing seem real.”

Raquelle stared apprehensively at Ryan, having no idea where he was going with this story.

“I told him I wouldn’t go after Barbie and the weird thing is that I really meant it. It’s like, seeing Ken in tears made the very idea of trying to date her ridiculous. Anyway, he was getting more and more hysterical, he was crying, sobbing, the whole nine yards. I didn’t know what to do and then…” Ryan leaned in closer, almost whispering the next line into his sister’s ear, “I kinda panicked and kissed him.”

Raquelle choked back a laugh, assuming her brother was joking. His eyes told a different story however, and as she met his gaze she could see he looked hopelessly lost.  
“Seriously? Oh God Ryan, seriously?”

“I panicked! I didn’t know what else to do! He was going on and on about Barbie and it seemed like the fastest way to shut him up!”

“So you made out with your mortal enemy. Classy.”

“Yeah, like you can talk, Raquelle.”

“So that’s it? That’s what you wanted to talk about? Come on, Ryan. I know you’ve done stuff with other guys before. Hell, I’ve even seen you kissing one in front of Dad just to piss him off. This isn’t exactly new information.”

“It kinda happened again, though. And I liked it. Like, a lot.”

“Hold up a second, are you telling me that while I was wrist-deep in cupcake batter trying to convince Teresa to tell me what was going on, you were hiding in here being Ken’s rebound guy?” The absurdity of the sentence took a moment to sink in. “Wait, it happened again? As in, Ken stuck around long enough after the first kiss for you to do it again?”  
“Well, he sort of kissed me the second time and, uh, let’s just say he was starting to get a little handsy.”

“Oh, God.” Raquelle reeled back in shock. “Really? Ken did that?”

“Like I said, he was still in shock after the break up. I dunno if he knew what he was doing, or if he even liked it.”

“Ken made out with you?”

“Look, I know you have a thing for him and I’m sorry, but it all happened so fast and-“

“Uh, that’s fine. He’s all yours now!” The mental image of a weeping Ken groping clumsily at her brother was more than enough to turn Raquelle off him for good.  
“Yeah, I wouldn’t hold my breath. I kinda had to reel it in, for Ken’s sake.”

“Oh come on, really?”

“He’s a complete mess at the moment, Raquelle! Barbie breaking up with his has hurt him a lot more than I think he realises, and, you know, it seems kind of creepy to just take advantage of him when he’s still trying to figure out where to go from here. Hell, I don’t even know if he’s actually into guys as well or if he was just, I dunno, experimenting I guess.”

“Look, Ryan. I’ve known you for nineteen years now-“

“Uh, Raquelle, we’re twenty three.”

“Yeah, whatever. The point is, I’ve seen you in so many different relationships since we were kids and in every one of them you’ve always been kind of a dick.”  
“What?!”

“Seriously, you didn’t pick up on that? I mean come on, the longest you’ve ever been with someone was two months and that’s only because Cindy Burke could actually tolerate your bullshit.”

“Yeah, okay. Time for you to go home now.”

“Look, what I’m saying is that you’ve always put yourself first in your relationships, you’ve never considered the other person’s feelings. From what you just told me, it seems like you actually did that for Ken, for the first time in your life.”

Ryan opened his mouth, unable to think of a comeback.

“I know he’s going through some stuff right now, and he’s probably going to want some space to figure stuff out, but you know. I wouldn’t burn that bridge if I were you.”  
“Uh, thanks. I guess?”

“And next time you tell me about something like this, could you maybe leave out the part where Ken feels you up. I’m going to need to take a bar of soap to my retinas to get rid of that image.”

“I really don’t think there’ll be a next time, Raquelle.”

“Oh, yeah there will be. Trust me, once he gets over this whole Barbie thing, he’ll be practically begging you to date him. You opened a door with that kiss, Ryan. Now you’ve got a sexually confused guy in your hands that you don’t know what to do with.”

Three years ago, Raquelle knew her brother would have exploited that insecurity and curiosity to no end. All throughout High School, he’d be bringing home just as many boys as he did girls, if not more. While a large majority of the guys were openly gay, there were more than his fair share of boys wanting to experiment. He’d eventually gotten a reputation among the other students and ended up dropping out his senior year, something Raquelle knew he regretted. While their mother was supportive of Ryan, his open bisexuality annoyed their father to no extent. He argued that their family had a reputation to maintain, that it was inappropriate for his son to be running around with anybody. Raquelle was almost certain that his disapproval stemmed from the number of partners overall rather than the fact that some of them were male, however Ryan was convinced otherwise and towards the end of his time in Boston almost exclusively dated other men in an attempt to anger their father even more.

Raquelle turned to look at her brother, deep in thought.

“Look, you’ve got some stuff to figure out, and Ken’ll probably be out of the shower soon, so I think I’m gonna head home.”

“Uh, yeah, if you want to. We were gonna order some Chinese for dinner and watch some movies, but you’re more than welcome to join us.”

“No, I should probably go.”

Raquelle was getting up off the couch when she noticed Ken in the doorway, staring at her. His familiar striped polo shirt was exchanged for one of Ryan’s black v-necks and he looked awkwardly out of place in a pair of acid washed jeans.

“Oh, hi Raquelle. I didn’t know you were here.”

“Don’t worry, I was just leaving. Nice, uh…” she looked him up and down, “Nice seeing you.”

“Yeah, my clothes are in the wash. They were kind of… sweaty.”

“O-kay, that’s a little more than I wanted to know. See you guys later.”

“Wait,” Ken stepped towards her, “stay for dinner. Please?”

“Fine, if you really want me to.” Raquelle breathed a sigh of relief, not particularly wanting to return home to an empty house.

* * *

The rest of the night flew by, as the trio settled in the living room, watching movies. Ryan ordered the Chinese shortly after the first one started and before long they were laughing, talking, sharing dinner. Towards the end of the night, Raquelle was content, curled up on an armchair, listening to the conversation going on between her brother and Ken on the main sofa. It was like she was seeing a whole new side of Ryan, something she’d never witnessed before. He was being friendly, open, genuine. She’d seen him acting like this before, but that was usually with an ulterior motive, with conquest in mind. With Ken it seemed real, like her brother was actually enjoying the other man’s company purely for company’s sake.

By the time the last film ended and they were preparing to go home, Raquelle was almost expecting Ken to head upstairs with Ryan as if it were already planned out, but he said goodbye at the front door and made his way back to his own house alongside her.

Raquelle, with a startle, realised that had been the first time the three of them had ever spent proper time together.

 _And it sure as hell won’t be the last_ , she smiled to herself as she made her way up her driveway. Whatever Ken had done to her brother over the course of the day, she liked it. The Ryan she knew as a twin brother, the kind and generous person, was beginning to peek through his tough guy public facade. Whatever the two had shared was working, and as she twisted open the door and entered her dark house, Raquelle was determined to help the two of them become a couple.


	6. The First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In between throes of passion, Ryan makes his way to Ken's house to find out why he's been getting the silent treatment. Unbeknownst to the unlucky man, however, Ken is pursuing a new interest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note - this was an April Fools' Day upload and for sanity's sake probably shouldn't be accepted as canon to the rest of the story. I mean, you can try to if you want but it will probably complicate things.

* * *

Ryan was worried.

Three days had passed since he last saw Ken, on the night Barbie announced her plans to move away from Malibu. He’d sensed something was wrong when they’d said goodbye to each other, but Raquelle’s presence made it difficult to ask what it was. Ryan hadn’t expected to hear from him the very next day, however he hung around the house with a watchful eye on the phone just in case. Ken hadn’t called or visited and Ryan tried to ignore it, remembering his sister’s warning that the newly single man needed some time to figure himself out. The second day seemed to drag on and Ryan had considered going over there himself just to check up on Ken. Raquelle called at midday to see if anything had progressed since she last saw the two and managed to convince her brother not to visit him. She invited herself over for dinner in a desperate attempt to take his mind off Ken and it had worked, for a short time. Ryan woke up in the early morning of the third day with a dead weight in his chest and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand the waiting very much longer. Preoccupying himself during the day proved more difficult than he thought and by mid-afternoon he made the decision that if he didn’t hear from Ken by dinnertime that night he would go over there and see what was wrong.

Sitting on his couch, checking his watch, Ryan caved under pressure at 5:30 and hastily prepared a small meal of scrambled eggs and toast. Shovelling the dinner down his throat, Ryan left the plate where it sat at his kitchen table and raced upstairs to shower before throwing on a typical grey v-neck and jeans. His heart pounding in his chest, he locked his house and took a shortcut through the small park island in the middle of the circular street, headed directly for the blue house opposite his own. 

The sun was beginning to set and a cold breeze picked up and swept across the Malibu coastline. Ryan almost considered heading back home to grab something warmer but forced the idea out of his mind as he approached Ken’s house, perched precariously on the left hand side of the gargantuan structure of pink and white that was the Dreamhouse.

A week ago he would have wanted more than anything to enter that house, Barbie in his arms and Ken nowhere in sight. For four long years he’d fantasized about breaking the couple up and claiming her for himself, leaving a broken hearted Ken lying hopeless in the gutter. Every Christmas, Valentine’s Day, Easter, he’d pictured finally proving himself worthy of Barbie and what she would do for him in exchange of gifts. One particular fantasy that played out in front of a roaring fireplace was so arousing he’d found himself forced to take a half-hour long cold shower to take his mind off of it.

Never had Ryan considered the possibility of having the same feelings towards Ken, but alas there it was. Their first encounter, four years ago, proved rather disastrous when Ryan tried to hit on Ken and when he finally met Barbie he’d managed to convince himself that she was far too good for the man who had rejected Ryan’s advances.

But now, in the span of just three days, Ryan found himself with a strange new view on the man he had vehemently hated for almost half a decade. New fantasies played out in his head, Barbie nowhere in sight. The most surprising part was that only a very small few of them were actually sexually motivated. Instead, Ryan found himself picturing he and Ken in plain, mundane day-to-day activities. Cheering their daughter on as she scored the winning goal in her soccer league, taking the family out for ice cream after their son’s piano recital.

Ryan stopped walking, his heart pounding into overdrive.

* * *

  _Ryan steadies himself, hand trembling on the door handle. A smaller palm comes to rest on top of his own and when he looks up he comes face to face with Raquelle. Smiling, she lifts her hand up to his head and straightens the red tie hung loosely around his neck._

_“You ready brother?” her eyes begin to well with tears and she pauses to dab them away with her fingers, chuckling._

_“Yeah, I think so. Are you?”_

_“Don’t mind me, I just can’t believe this is finally happening. It took you long enough!” Raquelle smiles and shakes the hair out of her eyes before linking her right arm with her brother’s left._

_“It’s showtime!”_

_Ryan turns the handle of the door and it swings effortlessly open. Three groups of chairs lay in front of the siblings, forming two aisles leading directly to the other end of the courtyard. The two step out of the building and into the twilight sky. Ryan hears the door to his right opening and it takes all the willpower he can muster not to turn around and look. Raquelle turns to look at him, her face beaming with the biggest smile Ryan’s ever seen._

_“Let’s go,” she breathes, and the two begin to make their way down the aisle on the left hand side._

_Heads turn as they walk silently to the front end of the grassy courtyard, brown stone walls stretching high into the evening sky around them. Soft white lamps hang from the wires that run from corner to corner and smaller orbs of light sit scattered in the grass around the chairs._

_Ryan reaches the front row of chairs, where a small platform is set up just ahead._

_“Good luck!” Raquelle unhooks her arm from his and kisses him on the cheek before turning to sit down on an empty chair at the front._

_Ryan steps onto the wooden structure by himself and turns to look at the crowd in front of him. A sea of faces smile at him, friends and family combined. Scanning the chairs he sees Nikki, Teresa and their young girls seated in the second row, beside Midge and Alan. Stacie and Chelsea sit in the front row on the other side of the courtyard and Skipper soon joins them. Looking back to Raquelle, seated with their parents, he smiles when he notices his mother’s eyes watering. Ryan’s locks eyes with his father’s, who nods once, the smile on his face almost matching the grin on Raquelle’s. A shiver is sent down Ryan’s spine and the pressure not to start crying increases tenfold when for the first time his father accepts him._

_He takes a deep breath and turns to his left, where he can finally see the man standing beside him._

_He’s wearing a matching suit, a sky blue tie the only difference between Ryan’s red one._

_Ken’s eyes are welled with tears as he scans the crowd, before similarly turning to face Ryan._

_Ken bites his lower lip and Ryan grins, the two take each other’s hands._

_A soft voice begins to speak from Ryan’s left. Barbie, an ordained minister._

_She talks and talks but Ryan isn’t listening, instead finding himself lost in Ken’s eyes._

_He can’t hear or see Barbie, ignores the crowd to his right. It’s just he and Ken, alone in the courtyard._

_Wordlessly, they exchange rings, their hands held steady._

_Ryan steps closer and places his hands on Ken’s shoulders before le_ _aning in to meet his lips. Ken wraps his arms around Ryan’s torso and kisses him back, holding for a moment before breaking away._

_Ryan looks down into the eyes of Ken and can feel the tears finally begin to pool in his own._

_The voice to his left talks for a moment and to his right he can hear an eruption of clapping, cheering, diminished to a dull roar as he holds Ken in his arms._

_Ryan pulls him into another embrace, resting his chin on Ken’s shoulder._

_The sound of the crowd is gone, all he can hear is the soft sound of Ken’s breathing and he can feel is his heart pressed against Ryan’s own._

_“I love you,” he whispers into his husband’s ear._

* * *

Ryan took a deep breath, shaking the vision out of his mind. He couldn’t stand it anymore and ran the rest of the way to Ken’s house, ready to confess everything.  
The front door was unlocked, Ryan let himself in.

There were noises coming from upstairs, the lower level of the house silent. Ryan made his way up the staircase, unfamiliar with the layout of Ken’s house. At the end of a long hallway a door sat ajar, a beam of light shining out. Ryan was about to call out when he heard some strange sounds coming from inside the room.

He stepped closer, pushing the door open the slightest bit more to see what was happening.

All he could see was Ken’s bare back, a pale blue sheet covering his legs and lower torso.

The sheet was moving with Ken as he pushed his abdomen back and forth, the muscles in his back straining as he held his upper body in the air with his arms.

“Oh… yeah…” Ken grunted, moaning as he pumped away.

Ryan was frozen in the doorway, no idea what to do. The initial shock wore off as he stared at Ken’s backside, contoured in the sheet as it thrust away at the person hidden behind him.

Heartbroken, Ryan held back a whimper and was prepared to leave the house and leave Ken and leave whoever Ken was having sex with when he saw a flash of shiny pink from the bed.

Ken stopped pumping for a moment and bent his elbows, leaning in for a kiss before giving a final, strong thrust.

He kicked the sheets off with his feet and Ryan found himself looking directly at Ken’s bare ass for the first time.

Ken rolled over, and Ryan had to stifle a scream when he saw what it was Ken was so passionately fucking. Laid on his back, erection pointing directly upwards, Ken held a pink, metal tube in his left hand at a slight angle to his chest. The bottom was curved and fanned out, the top attached to a large, flat cylinder which Ken had his right arm wrapped around. Another tube jutted from the top of the cylinder, cut at an angle.

Ken had his lips wrapped around the topmost tube, passionately licking and kissing the angular hole. Ryan’s eyes drew downwards and widened in shock as he saw Ken clumsily move the curved tube around with his left hand until it lined up with the tip of his penis and pushed his erection right into the open hole.

He broke the kiss as he pumped the tube up and down, moaning in delight.

“Oh… Schlondy…” he gasped, beginning to thrust his pelvis upwards off the bed to meet the Schlond Poofa as he pushed the pink metal down.

Ryan stood, transfixed in the doorway, half of him horrified at the scene that lay before his eyes, the other half slightly turned on as he caught the occasional glimpse of Ken’s cock, coated in a thick layer of lubricant as it slid in and out of the tube.

Ken stopped pushing the Schlond Poofa and lifted his knees off the bed, shifting his feet up the sheet and closer to his body. He spread his thighs and held the pink tube steady in his hands as he began pumping his pelvis up to meet it.

Ryan caught sight of Ken’s balls, bouncing up and down as he fucked the Schlond Poofa, and couldn’t take it anymore. He undid his jeans, letting them drop to the floor outside Ken’s bedroom. Off came the shirt, thrown down the hall in a heap. Squeezing his own erection, pressed tight against his leg in boxer briefs, he pulled his underpants down and kicked them behind him.

Ryan’s penis was already leaking with precum and as he continued to stare at Ken he felt an insatiable hunger deep inside. He pushed the door open and strode over to the bed, where Ken was still pumping away into the pink muffler.

Ken stopped, noticing the man standing before him.

“Ryan? What are you-?”

“My turn, Kenny Boy,” Ryan grinned and pulled the Schlond Poofa out of his hands, tossing it carelessly onto the bed before reaching down to take Ken’s erection in his hand. He jerked it a couple of times and wrapped his arms around Ken’s thighs, pulling him to the end of the bed. Kneeling on the floor, Ryan pressed a hand against Ken’s pelvis and wrapped his lips around the slick cock in front of him, using his other hand to slide the foreskin of his own dick.

“Ryan, that’s not a good- Oh god yeah, Ryan!”

Ryan rubbed his fingers around the base of Ken’s erection, running them through the excess lube. His tongue still working its way around Ken’s shaft, Ryan moved his left hand down to the base of Ken’s balls, running his fingers up and down until he found what he was looking for.

“Oh… Ryan…”

He slid the tip of a finger into Ken’s ass, shivering in delight as he felt the muscles contract around it.

“Please, Ryan…”

He pressed further, the digit sliding effortlessly in until his finger had disappearing deep into Ken.

“Fuck, Ryan, oh-“

Ryan pulled his lips off Ken’s cock, giving the head one last lick before focusing on the task further down. He pulled his finger out of Ken slowly, hearing a satisfying  _schlick_  as it came back into view.

“What are you going to… Oh God yeah…”

Ryan twisted Ken’s ass further up the bed and took his right hand off his own erection, coated it in the mixture of lube and saliva running down Ken’s dick and slid it all over his own before lifting it to hold Ken’s thighs apart.

“Fuck me Ryan…”

Ryan, only too happy to comply, got to his feet, moved his hands up to grab Ken’s ankles and pressed the tip of his cock against Ken’s tight hole, ready to start pumping.

“Ken, what is going on?” A new voice, deep. Something about it sounded familiar to Ryan.

“Oh God, I’m sorry, he took me by surprise!”

“I thought you loved me, Ken!”

Ryan tried to work out where the voice was coming from, still holding Ken’s feet in his hands. It sounded extremely familiar, a voice from his childhood.

“I’m so sorry, I do love you, I do!”

“We’re through!”

Ken pushed Ryan away and scrambled to his hands and knees on the mattress, beginning to cry. Almost instantly, Ryan figured out who was talking and where he had heard the voice before.

From the pink car muffler sat abandoned at the top of the bed came the unmistakable voice of Darth Vader, of Mufasa.

“I never want to see your face again, you cheating bastard!” The roaring voice of James Earl Jones came from deep within the Schlond Poofa.

“No, don’t leave me, we can work this out!” Ken picked up the muffler from the top corner of the bed and held it in his arms.

“I’m sick of hearing your excuses Ken.”

“Schlondy, wait!”

“Goodbye.”

The Schlond Poofa began to fade in Ken’s hands, until it had disappeared altogether.

“What the…” Ryan recoiled as Ken burst into tears, wrapping his arms around his body.

“You! You did this!” Ken turned his face to stare at Ryan, pure anger radiating from his eyes.

“What did I… what was that… what?”

“Get out! GET OUT!”

“Ken-“

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU HOME WRECKER!”

Ken grabbed the alarm clock that sat beside his bed and threw it at Ryan.

“Whoa, what are you…”

“GET OUT!” Ken started throwing whatever he could find at Ryan.

The naked man leapt out of the way of a lava lamp and took the message, sprinting out of Ken’s bedroom and down the hall. Glancing forlornly back at his clothes tossed in a pile outside the door, Ryan continued down the stairs and out the front door.

“YOU ASSHOLE!” Ken was leaning out one of the windows at the front of his house, continuing to throw objects at the man racing down the driveway.  
Ryan ran off into the night, sprinting down the street until he reached the safety of his own house.

* * *

Unbeknownst to either Ken or Ryan, an observer took notice of the entire incident, sat hidden in the leaves of one of the palm trees planted alongside the sidewalk.

“I’ll get you for this,” the Schlond Poofa muttered in the deep voice of James Earl Jones, “Just you wait Ryan, I’ll get you…”

It began to fade out of view before disappearing once again, leaving nothing but the sound of the cool Malibu night air rustling through the leaves in its wake.


	7. First Encounters, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to 2009, when Raquelle and Ryan first move to Malibu. Their connection to the neighbours is stronger than they anticipated, however, when they remember just what their parents were doing the year before.

* * *

“Are you sure this is the right place?”

“Yes, Raquelle.”

“Are you certain? Check the map again, just in case.”

“Look, the realtor said to meet him by the gigantic pink house and I really doubt there’s another one in the area.”

“This is Malibu though, Ryan, not Boston! Don’t they record all those real housewives shows in this area?”

“I dunno, probably. Why?”

“Those women wear a lot of pink, surely their houses would be painted to match, right?”

“Fine, I’ll check the map. Just try not to embarrass yourself, okay?”

“Give it here, I’ll do it myself.” Raquelle snatched the bundle of papers out of her brother’s hand. Giving them a glance over, she frowned at Ryan. “Ugh, why are we meeting him outside here again? Just looking at all those shades of magenta makes me want to scratch my eyes out. Who even owns a house like that?”

“The Roberts’ daughter; what’s her name… Barbie?”

“Are you serious? Barbie freaking Roberts lives here?”

“That’s what the realtor told me.”

“How the hell did she pay for a house this big?! She’s around the same age as us, isn’t she?”

“They got a ridiculous amount of money in the will, remember? All four of them.”

“I’ve heard more than enough about that damn will, Ryan. You’re starting to sound like Mom and Dad.”

Ryan rolled his eyes at his twin sister, although silently agreeing with her. The famous Robert daughters lawsuit of the previous year was also still freshly implanted in his mind, his parents’ firm having representing George Roberts’ elder brother who had demanded the majority of their will be relinquished to himself on the basis that the now orphaned daughters were too young to know what to do with it.

The irony of the situation was of course that Raquelle and Ryan were left alone, unsupervised with access to the family’s bank accounts in Boston while their parents were in Malibu trying to convince a judge that Barbie was too young to properly know how to deal with money.

It was during one of the many hazy, blurred parties while left alone in the penthouse that Ryan first thought about leaving Massachusetts. He’d just successfully lured someone he barely knew into bed with him using his guitar and when they were finished the guy, Greg, told him he should try to pursue his career in California. It was certainly something he had considered in the past, but hearing it come from someone else, someone who wasn’t himself or his sister, had a much more profound effect on the man than he realised.

“Do you think she knows that Mom and Dad were the ones trying to help her uncle take her money?” Raquelle giggled.

“I hope not, we’re probably going to be neighbors now.”

“Where is that damn realtor, it’s boiling out here!”

“Just be patient, would you? He’s probably meeting with other people before us-“

Ryan was cut off by the sound of a metal scraping against concrete. Turning around, he noticed the large gates leading up to the pink house behind them slowly swinging open.

“Oh great,” Raquelle moaned, fanning herself with the map, “now we’re going to have to meet her.”  
“God, settle down. I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

“Hi there!” A new voice, high pitched and squeaky.

Ryan noticed a little girl, probably only nine or ten, skipping out of the gates before coming to a stop in front of the twins. Her blonde ponytail was positioned on the side of her head and she wore a multitude of turquoise coloured clothing.

“Skipper, are you ready with the drinks?” she shouted out behind her, before two other blonde girls came into view.

The eldest, in her early teens, was carrying a pitcher of lemonade in one hand and a flip phone in the other. She blew her fringe out of her eyes with the corner of her mouth before stopping behind the first girl. The youngest of the three, probably still in preschool, was struggling with two cups. She was concentrating on them intently and almost bumped into her eldest sister.

“Who are you, exactly?” Raquelle was fast and to the point, like usual.

“I’m Stacie!” the first girl exclaimed, reaching out to shake Ryan’s hand. “These are my sisters, Skipper and Chelsea.” She gestured to the other girls behind her. The youngest, Chelsea, grinned and waved, still holding the glasses. The eldest wasn’t paying attention, her eyes directed downwards to the phone in her hand.

“Skipper!” Stacie groaned, “Barbie said you’re not allowed to do that, remember? She said she only bought you that for emergencies!”

“Yeah, well since when was Barbie the boss of us?”

“What do you mean?” Chelsea looked at her sister with curious eyes.

“Ugh, fine, whatever.” Skipper flipped the phone closed and shoved it into her pocket. Looking up at the twins for the first time, she did a double-take when she first noticed Raquelle.

“Oh my God, I love your hair!”

“Uh, thanks.”

“I want to dye mine brown but Barbie said I’m not allowed.”

“She said you could when you turn fourteen.” Stacie offered.

“But that’s not for another three months!”

“So?”

“So why is she bossing me around? She’s not mom!”

“Skipper!”

“What?! She isn’t!”

“Whoa, okay girls, let’s change the subject.” Ryan noticed Chelsea was about to cry, and kneeled down to try to comfort her. “Hey, it’s okay.”

Raquelle stared awkwardly at the other two for a moment before attempting to strike up a conversation.

“So, why are you small children out here exactly?”

“We could see you out here and it’s super hot so we brought you lemonade!” Stacie smiled forcefully, grabbing the pitcher out of her elder sister’s hand.

“Oh that’s so… quaint. Er, thank you.”

“What are you doing out here anyway?” Skipper asked, crossing her arms, “Are you trying to spy on us or something?”

“What? No! We’re looking at buying a house and the dumbass realtor told us to meet him outside this place.”

“You said a naughty word!” Chelsea gasped, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands.

“Uh, whoops. Sorry.”

“That’s okay, Ken says naughty words sometimes too but we still like Ken.”

“Who?”

“Ken! He’s Barbie’s boyfriend and he’s nice. One time he was looking after me and let me have ice cream for dinner! He lives over there.” The girl gestured to a bright blue house to their left before looking back to Raquelle and pointing at Ryan. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“Ew, no! He’s my brother.”

“I’m Ryan,” he smiled, “and she’s Raquelle. We’re moving here from Boston.”

“We used to live near there! I wasn’t born yet though, but Skipper and Stacie were!”

“What? No we didn’t.” Skipper frowned at her sister, “We lived in Wisconsin, that’s nowhere near Massachusetts.”

“Well I’m only this many!” Chelsea snapped back, holding three fingers in the air, “I don’t know everything!”

“Anyway,” Stacie butted in, “did you want some lemonade while you wait?”

“Sure, kid.” Ryan took a glass when Chelsea offered it up and helped Stacie as she struggled to pour from the jug.

“None for me thanks, I’m on Atkins.”

“Raquelle!”

“Ugh, fine. I mean, er, yes please!”

“I made it all by myself!” Chelsea grinned proudly as the twins drank from their glasses.

“Well it is really good!” Ryan smiled back at the child.

Chelsea looked around cautiously before gesturing for him to come closer. Ryan kneeled down and she whispered loudly into his ear, “The secret ingredient is lots of sugar!”  
Ryan chortled when he heard his sister loudly groan next to him.

“Hey, you’re waiting for a real estate agent, right?” Stacie pointed at a sleek black car that was making its way towards the house.

“Well it’s about time!” Raquelle handed her half empty glass back to Chelsea and strode towards the vehicle that was pulling onto the kerb outside the pink gates. A tall man in a suit and sunglasses stepped out and nodded to the small group gathered in the driveway.

“You must be Ms. Sherwood, I’m Peter Burrows. That’s your brother over there with the Roberts children, correct?”

“Uh, yes,” Raquelle stammered back, not used to being spoken to so brashly.

“Okay then, let’s get to the point. We have two houses available in this area, however I doubt they’ll be here long. The development company responsible for this tract of land went bankrupt a week ago so they’ve drastically lowered the prices to try to regain some of their capital. Don’t worry,” he turned his head towards a frowning Raquelle, “this particular area was completed a year ago and long before their bankruptcy, so the quality of the houses is assured.”

“Oh, well we were planning on getting one place and living together for a while, just to start off with…”

“Like I said, these houses won’t be available for much longer. Shall we look at them?”

“Sure, I guess. Did you want us to meet you there, or-“

“There’s no need, they are both within walking distance. Follow me.”

“Okay, uh, bye kids, I guess.” Ryan handed his glass back to Chelsea and gave her a smile before catching up to his sister and the realtor, leaving the three blonde girls waving in the driveway.

“Now, the first house I’d like to show you is the Storybook unit, it features a fully functional outdoor entertainment area and guest house.”

“Sorry, I don’t think I’ve properly introduced myself,” Ryan pushed past his sister to walk alongside the suited man, flashing a smile in his direction, “I’m Ryan.”

“Oh for crying out loud.” Raquelle groaned, stomping her feet against the concrete as they walked past the blue house Chelsea had told them belonged to Barbie’s boyfriend.

The trio approached the next property, Ryan and the realtor chatting with Raquelle dawdling behind. The house, a large white structure with French windows, was set back in the property, a small wall fencing the front yard. The house caught Raquelle’s interest almost immediately and she quickened her pace to catch up to the two men walking up to the front door.

The brief tour Peter gave them through the house only cemented Raquelle’s interest and by the time they were shown the entertainment area built in the backyard she was determined that she wanted it.

Ryan, however, remained unsure.

 ”The only other house in the area is the Wright unit, located opposite this property. You can probably see it from here, but you are more than welcome to tour it as well.”  
Raquelle rolled her eyes as her brother and the real estate agent strode off again, leaving her behind in the house. By the time she caught up to them, they were already standing outside the other property.

Brown, black and white cubes of house were stacked on top of each other seemingly at random, creating what Raquelle was convinced was the ugliest building she had ever seen. Ryan, on the other hand, was much more enthusiastic than he was at the previous house and by the end of the hour, both twins were certain that they had found their new homes.

* * *

The sun was dipping beyond the horizon as they flew back to Massachusetts that evening, two down payments already paid on the houses. Raquelle was restless, eagerly flipping through a stack of furniture magazines she’d bought at the airport. Ryan had his head pressed against the window, looking out over the clouds at the golden sky before him.

The youngest three of the Roberts’ daughters had welcomed them eagerly enough, but would the oldest, Barbie? His mind wandered to the year before, snapshots of conversations his parents had during the duration of the endless court hearings. Raquelle was convinced she wouldn’t care but Ryan was more weary. As they left California behind them, all he could do was wonder if moving to Malibu was really worth all the trouble that would entail.


End file.
